


<3

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: :/, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Violence, but today is not that day my dudes, i promise i'll write fluff someday, serious trigger warnings here y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Goodnight, John. I love you very much, remember that."</p><p>A lump rises in his throat. "I love you too, Father."</p>
            </blockquote>





	<3

**Author's Note:**

> yo this deals with a scary and painful topic. take care of yourself, ok?
> 
> (texts from John are in italics; texts from Alex are in italics with a dash in front.)
> 
> EDIT: Hi folks, i'm orphaning this work because it no longer fits with my interests & i've grown so much as a writer that it's frankly embarrassing to look at. If you enjoy it, that's great! But there will be no updates.

His father advances slowly as John desperately tries to scramble away. "Can't you ever do anything right?" he asks.

"Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I -" He's cut off as his father backhands him.

He can't stop apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'll do better, it was just one test -"

His father hits him again, two punches aimed high on his left cheekbone and another to the pit of his stomach. "Shut up, boy."

Tears start rolling down his cheeks. He despises himself for it. His father's lip curls in disgust as he watches John cry. "I thought I raised a boy, not a little girl. Can't even stand there and take it like a man." He shoves John down to the ground, where he trembles under his father's gaze, praying for his punishment to be over soon.

"Please -"

His father snarls. "You brought this on yourself, John. Maybe if you weren't such a damn disappointment, I wouldn't have to be doing this." He kicks John in the stomach, hitting the spot where his fist landed earlier. John convulses in pain. His father kicks him again, this time on his side. He doesn't stop, not even when John starts crying out.

John's sobbing now as he begs, "Stop, please, you're hurting me!" His father only continues to kick him over and over until finally, he brings his foot to rest atop John's chest, then stomps down hard enough to make it painful.

Kneeling down next to John and tenderly smoothing his hair away from his face, he asks, "Have you learned your lesson?" When John only sobs and squeezes his eyelids shut, his father grabs his throat, tightening his grip until John's eyes fly open. Shaking him, he repeats himself. "I _asked_ , have you learned your lesson?"

John's fingers are scrabbling across his father's hand now, trying to loosen his grip. Tiny, strangled whimpers emerge from his throat as tears stream down his cheeks. His father squeezes again, and frantically nodding, he chokes out something that sounds like "yes".

Releasing him, his father stands up. "Wash up and get ready for dinner, please. We're having sweet potatoes and roasted chicken." With that, he walks off, leaving John curled up on the floor.

John eventually forces himself to get up, scared of being beaten again, and slowly cleans himself up in the bathroom. His face is sore and puffy from crying. There's handprints on his cheek, his hair is tangled and unruly, and red finger-marks ring his neck. He tidies up as best he can, then makes his way to the dining room. His father is at the table already, along with Patsy, Polly, and Hank, who are warily avoiding making eye contact with their father. John's heart clenches. They heard his punishment, of course they did. He stares at his feet. If he wasn't such a fuckup, they wouldn't have to listen to him being beaten.

As he sits down at the table, trying to conceal a wince when his arm brushes over his stomach, his father chatters on about business matters. John bites his tongue and keeps himself from arguing, mechanically eating his dinner without really tasting anything. Polly sends him a worried look across the table when he flinches again, after his father had gotten particularly passionate and slammed his fist down on the table, and he nods slightly, trying to tell her that he's okay. Finally, he finishes eating and his father dismisses him from the table. He hurries up the stairs and into his room, making sure to shut the door behind him, and grabs his phone.

_hey_

Alex replies instantly, and John smiles.

_\- Hi! How are you!?!!_

_dad hit me, but i'm okay_

_\- That fucking asshole. What happened?_

_i told him i'm failing calc_

John carefully pulls up his shirt and takes a photo of the bruises forming on his torso, then moves up to his neck and face, where the handprints are beginning to darken.

_[Sent: 3 images]_

_\- Oh my god_

_\- I hate him_

_\- Tell someone. please._

_i can't, alex. he trusts me_

_i don't want to disappoint him_

_\- Please, John. He's hurting you._

_it's not that bad_

_i have food and shelter, and the only reason he hits me is because i deserve it and he cares about me_

_\- Don't you /dare/ say you deserve this._

Suddenly, his door begins to open, and John jumps up, shoving his phone under the pile of blankets on his bed. His father sticks his head in through the door, saying, "Come here, John."

Warily, John follows him into the bathroom, where he pulls out a tube of ointment and tells John to take off his shirt. John obliges, and raises his arms away from his sides as his father rubs the ointment onto his injuries. It's cold, and he flinches away slightly, then freezes, wondering if he's going to be hit again.

But his father only says, "Hold still." He remains silent until he's finished applying the medicine, then he washes his hands and helps John put his shirt back on. As he walks him back to his room, his father says, "I do wish you would stop making me so angry. Believe me, I don't like beating you any more than you like being beaten, but sometimes it's the only way to get through to you. Goodnight, John. I love you very much, remember that."

A lump rises in his throat. "I love you too, Father."

Once his father has left, John digs his phone out from under the blankets and scrolls through his messages. He has seven new texts from Alex, all of them increasingly panicked.

_\- John?_

_\- Are you okay?_

_\- Where'd you go?_

_\- ...John?_

_\- If he's hurting you again, I swear to God I'll hunt him down_

_\- John, where are you_

_\- please be okay_

_i'm here_

_\- Did he hit you again?_

_no, he took me into the bathroom and put medicine on my bruises_

_\- ...What?_

_yeah_

_\- Let me get this straight:_

_\- After beating the living shit out of you_

_\- He thinks he has the right to try to take care of you???_

_it's okay, alex, it's no big deal_

_he didnt hit me that bad, just roughed me up some_

_\- God, I hate him so much._

_at least he actually does take care of me. like i said, he only hits me because he cares about me and wants to hold me to a high standard_

_\- Do you realize how fucked up that is?_

_can we change the subject?_

_\- Yeah, of course, but that reasoning is wrong and he's only using it to make himself feel better about hurting you_

_actually, it's getting late, i should go to bed_

_goodnight_

_\- Goodnight <3 _

His breath catches at the heart emoji. Hurriedly, he deletes the message thread and shoves his phone under the bed. He can't - he can't let his father find out. Not about this, this _something_ between Alex and him. He's not sure what it is, friendship or brotherhood or something more, but he knows it's special. It's the one good thing in his life. He can't let it go.

But, god, he's being so pathetic. Alex probably doesn't even feel that strongly about him, he's just playing along because he feels sorry for John. He'd be so disgusted if he found out how John really feels about him, how many times John has stayed up late at night thinking of him. So ashamed to have been associated with someone so wrong and dirty.

John curls up on the bed. No, he can't let Alex know. Can't let anyone know. He'll just have to work through this himself, get the taint out of him somehow. He has to do this alone.

He cries himself to sleep that night.


End file.
